It’s been really sunny today.Because of course it had, because anyone with functioning eyes could see the blazing sunshine outside.What the hell is wrong with me?
Rux’s dragon was no help whatsoever. He was too busy basking in Sam’s proximity.
“Very sunny,” Rux agreed, because apparently his mouth had decided to operate independently of his brain. “Excellent sunshine…for October.”
Sam’s hands paused - just for a second - before continuing to steam the milk. “Mmhmm.”
The espresso machine hissed. Foam rose in the metal pitcher. Sam’s fingers wrapped around the handle, and Rux found himself staring at those hands. Compact, capable, with a scatter of freckles across the knuckles.
Focus.
He needed to say something else. Something that didn’t make him sound like he’d never experiencedweather before. His gaze dropped to the floor.
“These tiles are really nice.”
Sam stopped. He actually stopped what he was doing, pitcher in hand, and turned to look at Rux with an expression that suggested he was trying very hard to figure out if Rux was actually real.
“The...tiles?”
“Yes.” Rux was committed to it now, he had to keep going. He gestured vaguely downward at the honey-colored wood planks. “Very well maintained. Good choice. Really brings the space together.”
“They’re laminate,” Sam said slowly, the way people spoke when they weren’t sure if they were being pranked. “From the hardware store in Cheltenham.”
“Excellent craftsmanship.”
“Craftsmanship? It’s...laminate.”
Rux could feel heat creeping up his neck, his dragon purring contentedly because at least they weretalkingtotheir Treasure, even if the talking involved complimenting the flooring.
Sam turned back to the espresso machine, pouring the shots. He added them to the pumpkin spice syrup before topping everything with steamed milk and an excessive mountain of foam because Rux had asked for extra.
The silence stretched. Sam concentrated on the drink with intense focus, as if it required all his attention – or, perhaps, he was very carefully not looking at the large man having some kind of breakdown and was talking about his floor.
Rux scrambled for something – anything - to salvage the situation.
“Do you work here often?”
Sam’s shoulders tensed. He set down the milk pitcher carefully before reaching for a lid.
“Most days.” The words came out flat. “I’m here most days.”
Of course he is.Rux knew that. They’d been watching the café for over a week, knew Sam’s exactschedule, and knew he opened four mornings a week and covered afternoon shifts on the others.
“Right.” Rux’s hands flexed. “That’s...consistent.”
“Very.” Sam snapped the lid onto the cup and turned around. His smile was definitely not the bright smile offered to the previous customer. It was polite in the way that meantplease leave now. “One pumpkin spice latte with extra foam. That’ll be four dollars fifty.”
Rux paid and took the drink. Then he stood there in the middle of the café with a pumpkin spice latte he didn’t particularly want, his dragon still chanting possessively while his brain scrambled for a reason - any reason - to stay longer.
Sam had already turned to wipe down the espresso machine.
“I’ll have another.”
Sam’s hand stilled on the steam wand. He glanced back, one eyebrow raised. “Another pumpkin spice latte?”
“No.” Rux set down his full cup. “Something different. What do you recommend?”
The professional smile flickered back into place, though Sam’s eyes held a trace of confusion. “Well, the cappuccino is popular. Or if you want something stronger, a flat white…”
